


The Other Side: Part Twenty Three

by PiscesPenName



Series: The Other Side Series [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crying Dean Winchester, Dean Has a Nice Butt, F/M, Light Angst, Prostate Massage, Vaginismus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 01:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13602597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: Carrie and Dean stray off the vanilla path once more before Dean decides they need to go back on it.still having formatting issues. I apologize.





	The Other Side: Part Twenty Three

Dean sat on the couch, watching TV but looking lost in thought. Carrie sat down next to him. He absently put his arm around her.

 

"Wanna talk?" She asked.

 

"Fuck, no." He replied.

 

She snorted. "Okay... come here." She pulled him down toward her. He resisted a minute and then put his head in her lap. She petted his hair, running her fingers through it. Dean folded his knees in order to fit his legs up on the sofa.

 

She felt him pet her knee. "You're awesome," he told her.

 

"I love you too."

 

"Care..." he sighed. "God I want to fuck you senseless."

 

She tensed up a little. "I..."

 

"Hey don't worry. I know you're the one chick that's not gonna turn on. It's okay, sweetheart. I just wanna forget everything."

 

"You showed up in such a good mood and now you seem down."

 

"Was in a good mood," he said. "Getting to see my girl. Just got a lot on my mind."

 

Her heart warmed at being called "his girl."

 

"I wish you'd tell me what's on your mind."

 

There was a distinctly weighted pause. "No. You don't."

 

"I'm here and..."

 

"You don't need to know any of this shit. It changes who you are. And I'm not doing that to you."

 

She fell silent. "But..."

 

"Hey." His voice grew a bit sharp. "Leave it."

 

She inwardly flinched from the tone. She didn't quite understand why a rebuke from Dean always made her feel small and weak, but it did. It bothered her. Made her feel like she was pathetic... a door mat who'd shrink from any confrontation with a guy. It wasn't the way she'd pictured herself being and she really hadn't been that way--except with Dean.

 

She left it. There was silence for the space of a few minutes until he rolled on his back to look at her.

 

She bit her lip and looked down at him. He reached up and tugged playfully on her t-shirt. "Hey. Help me forget everything."

 

"How?" She asked. "I'm sore. I can't do anything yet."

 

"Well... earlier you put me in control...you wanna take control tonight?" His dark voice made her stomach clench.

 

"You know," she told him. "You could make a small fortune recording audio of you talking dirty in that voice."

 

She watched a smile tug on the corner of his mouth. "Yeah?"

 

"Yes."

 

"You saying you like my voice?"

 

"Among other things."

 

The smile tugged again. That pleased him.

 

"Let's watch some TV and grab again bite and then let's throw you in the driver's seat." He replied, all his angst evaporated for the moment.

* * *

 

 

Carrie slid a latex glove on her right hand and gently stroked Dean's thigh with her left. She kissed his forehead and coaxed his leg up a little.

 

"Stay on your back." She adjusted herself so that she was between his bent legs on the bed and leaned down to kiss the inside of one of his knees, stroked his inner thigh gently. His breath was coming faster already. She watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously.

 

"You okay?" She asked, a little thrown by his nerves. He'd been the one who had requested they'd try this again after all-- but now that they were down to it, she could tell he was almost scared.

 

"Course I am." He responded with his customary bluster.

 

She looked at him measuringly then put her hand on his hip and she showed him how to tilt his pelvis up a little. Dean drew a deep breath in through his nose.

 

Having been through this once she was a little surprised by his reticence.

 

She squeezed some lubricant onto her fingers and reached down to touch his balls. He inhaled sharply at the feel of the coolness of the jelly, his hips jerking a little. She slid her fingers a little farther back and pressed in gently on his perineum. Dean's mouth parted and his eyes slid shut for a second.

 

Carrie stayed where she was stroking. He always seemed to respond well to gentle touch there.

 

"Good boy." She whispered, playing with the back of his balls for a moment and then watching his expression as she slid further back and carefully pushed in.

 

Dean jolted and his entire body clamped down. She could see his abs contract sharply.

 

"Shhhh." She whispered, automatically going into coaching mode.

 

She leaned down to kiss his knee again. "It's okay baby. Relax. You have to relax, sweetheart."

 

She watched his chest heave with a pant. He was huffing slow breaths, trying to keep himself under control. He tilted his head back, swallowing harshly again.

 

She pressed in just a little farther and Dean's voice broke the silence, ragged deep. "N...Carrie."

 

"You're so tense."

 

"Carrie."

 

She hushed him. "Breathe." She waited a moment, watching his handsome face. His jaw trembled and he squeezed his eyes shut.

 

She moved her hand again.

 

"Stop!" He choked.

 

"Okay." She whispered, feeling a deep shake go through him. She stilled her movement. "Deep breath."

 

His face worked into an expression of pain and fear. "I... I can't."

 

"Okay." Carrie gently slid back out and pulled off the glove. "It's okay. We don't have to."

 

He rolled over onto his stomach and took a deep breath. She watched the lean muscles of his back work as he slowed down his respiration. "What's going on, Dean? Talk to me."

 

She gave him a minute. Knew the silence was him processing his emotions.

 

Carrie ran her hand over his shoulder blade and let him have his silence.

 

"I dunno," he said, running a hand over his face. He rolled to his back.

 

"Did I hurt you?"

 

"Not really. Just...leave it."

 

She shut up but gave him a hurt look.

 

"Carrie, come on. Don't make me feel guilty."

 

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. I just don't know what happened."

 

"I changed my mind." He snapped with a little bit more attitude than necessary. "Good enough?"

 

She nodded and suppressed a tearful reaction.

 

Dean rolled to look at her. "Are you seriously gonna cry because I asked you not to shove a finger up my ass?"

 

Her expression twisted as she was genuinely stung by the reaction. "You are such a jerk sometimes!" Carrie stood up off the bed and departed for the living room, trying to hold back tears.

* * *

 

 

 

A long time seemed to pass before she heard him stir in the other room. She could hear the clink of his belt, the shuffle of fabric. She curled up into the couch, still mutely hurt.

 

She heard his foot steps and he appeared in the archway, wearing his navy boxer briefs. "You want me to go?" He asked casually.

 

She shrugged and avoided his eyes.

 

"Okay fine, I'll go."

 

Her face twisted.

 

He looked at her with mild impatience.

 

"YOU asked me to do it, Dean. That's like me asking you to fuck me and then me getting mad at you when you try because it hurts."

 

He took a breath. "Okay. Fine. I get it."

 

"I don't know what I did wrong."

 

"You didn't do anything wrong." He assured. He sighed. "I was just...look you try to get me to talk when I'm shaken up about something and I just...." he sighed.

 

"Can we talk now?"

 

He looked like he didn't want to. Steeled himself a little. "Yeah. I guess."

 

"What happened?"

 

He shrugged. "I told you I changed my mind."

 

"What shook you up?"

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked away. "Look, this is dumb."

 

"No its not." She could see his defensiveness rising. Feel it.

 

"Hey..." Carrie patted the couch next to herself.

 

He looked at her like she was offering him to wolves.

 

"Dean..."

 

He gave up and finally sat next to her. She could feel the wall he had up. He was expecting a horrifically uncomfortable talk or a fight.

 

She took his hand and could feel the stiffness, almost a tremble. "Come here." She rose to her knees and went to hug him. He let her but sat stiff under the affection.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

"I feel trapped." He told her.

 

She let him go and sat back on her heels. "Trapped?"

 

He stood up. "Yeah..I don't want to fight."

 

"I don't either. Why do you think I'm out to fight with you?"

 

"I don't. Carrie..." he looked so uncomfortable she didn't know how to help him.

 

"Look. I can tell you're wound up. So, can I just hold you?" she asked.

 

"I don't wanna be held."

 

"Okay." She didn't hide her disappointed look then bit her lip. "Do you want me to make you some toast and hot cocoa? My mom used to do that when I was younger."

 

He shrugged. "You don't have to mother me."

 

"Can I make my man some hot cocoa then?"

 

"Okay."

 

* * *

 

Dean dunked his toast in the steaming mug and took a tentative bite. He licked the butter off his lip.

 

"This is...really good."

 

"You say it like it's a surprise."

 

"I'm not sure I've had hot chocolate since I was a little kid."

 

He dunked his toast again and ate the rest.

 

Carrie walked over to him and smoothed his hair back. He looked up at her through those long L'Oréal commercial lashes and parted his lips.

 

She straddled him and put her arms on his broad shoulders. She pulled him to her breasts and this time he went willingly. She felt him let out a long sigh. She could feel his tension drain out with his breath.

 

"I love you," she told him.

 

He nuzzled her.

 

Her hands brushed a lazy circle over his shoulder blades. If she could get him to relax and accept her love maybe she could get him to open up.

 

"I didn't mean to hurt you earlier," she told him.

 

"Didn't hurt that bad. I just..." He took a breath.

 

"What happened?"

 

He shrugged, dropped his gaze to her breasts.

 

"We don't ever have to do it again. I just don't know what happened?"

 

"I wanted to try it again because the orgasm I got last time was... freaking awesome. But I... feeling you going in...it just..." he looked at her searchingly.

 

"You panicked."

 

He shrugged. "I'm not mad at you, Care. I just. I can't talk about stuff sometimes and you pushin makes me want to leave or punch a wall." He picked up her hand and kissed it.

 

"You can tell me you're scared." She said.

 

"I'm not scared. I just..." he shook his head. "Things aren't supposed to go in there."

 

So it was the idea that was bothering him? She ran her hand along his chest, gave a little swirl along his nipple. "But it's not things." She said softly, "it's my hands."

 

"Yeah." He said huskily.

 

"MY hands. Me. Not anyone else."

 

He smirked. "Well if you make it sound like that."

 

"It IS like that. It's just me feeling another part of your body. And you're just as handsome, just as sexy, just as much a guy as any other time."

 

His expression betrayed his dubiousness.

 

"You are."

 

"Yeah super freaking macho."

 

She took his face in her hands. "Look at me."

 

He bit his lip.

 

"You are the handsomest, sexiest man I have ever seen."

 

She saw the color rise to his cheeks with the compliment.

He grinned. "Course I am."

 

"And so modest."

 

Dean put his hands under her knees to support her and stood up. Her arms went around him with a yelp as she was lifted, straddling him. "What are we doing?"

 

"Giving this the old college try. Let's hit the reset button." He sobered and looked deeply into her eyes. "I need this to be YOU, Care. Don't be in nurse mode. Don't hold back. Be you."

 

* * *

 

He was all over her like he had been after the first time they'd done this, subconsciously asserting his dominance of her before he'd submit. His hands and mouth and body weight was everywhere leaving Carrie too flustered to even be able to think about getting her fingers where they needed to be.

 

She finally started to tug his briefs down when he was on top of her kissing. He went after her pants, tugging.

 

"Hey. Hey." She stilled his motion on her waist band.

 

"Huh?" He was flushed.

 

"You're not giving me enough time to think here."

 

"Bout what..."

 

She pushed up to push him off her chest and he dismounted and rolled beside her.

 

"Turn around."

 

Dean gamely moved over with his back to her.

 

She pressed up behind him and kissed his bare neck. She loved the smooth skin just below the hairline. She snaked her hands down his pants and squeezed his erection.

 

Dean groaned and arched into her.

 

"Are we trying again?" She asked.

 

He stilled. "Yeah. I wanna... I wanna feel you though. I don't like it when you're sitting up and I'm down."

 

She pressed herself against his back and hitched her leg over his thigh. "I'm gonna be pressed right up against you. Is that okay?"

 

He nodded.

 

Carrie reached down and grabbed a glove to slip on with the lubricant.

 

She watched Dean's reaction from the corner of her eye. He looked tense at the sound of the snap of the gloves.

 

"Okay." She leaned back down and pressed her body against him once more, ran her leg over his. Dean's ass was bare, his briefs tugged down to mid thigh.

 

She realized she had to talk to him to soothe him or he was going to panic but she had to fight against being clinical about it. Sexy. Make it a sexy dialogue.

 

"I love having you tremble under my hands. You like making me tremble?" She asked, her lips close to his ear.

 

"Yes." Dean replied.

 

She reached in between his legs from behind to cup his balls. He inhaled sharply and snapped his legs shut around her.

 

"Carrie. Tickles."

 

She palmed him.

 

He groaned.

 

"Relax," she whispered. "Let me feel you."

 

He let her, relaxing a little. She moved to his perineum and gently worked it with her fingers. He responded with a pleased moan. He really liked being touched just behind his balls. She got the feeling it had been a neglected spot for a long time.

 

She slipped behind and went inside him. Dean yelped and tensed again and Carrie leaned over. "Ssshhhh, handsome. It's just me. Just Carrie."

 

She felt him relax a fraction. She took the opportunity to push forward. She kept going even when she felt him clench down. Kissed the side of his cheek. The side of his ear. "You're so sexy".

 

"K...keep talkin." He whispered.

 

She had to shift to get his prostate. He cried out hen she hit it and then huffed a breath.

 

"It's okay." She told him.

 

She watched the pain and discomfort melt into pleasure, his mouth dropping open into a surprised O.

 

She started to stroke him with careful gentle movements. She could tell he wanted to move his hips and his hand drifted down to his penis.

 

"Let me do the work." She soothed. "Let me," she crooked her finger and his eyes shot wide with another startled cry that went right through her. "Let me do all the work for once."

 

She reveled in every gasp and moan and facial expression she got out of him. She was touching a part of him that made him squeeze his eyes shut. His hand clutchied so hard on the mattress that his knuckles were white. The pulse was pounding in his neck as she leaned forward and kissed it.

 

"Yes." She told him in her best bedroom voice. "Let go."

 

His breath hitched and she felt the quake start up in his leg and knew she had him close.

 

"Carrie..."

 

She met his moan with her own, watching from behind as his jaw tightened and his back and stomach began to tremble. She leaned over and took his earlobe between her lips and kissed with a humming sound.

 

The moment seemed to suspend itself for a few beats and she was afraid he wasn't going to come and then he let out a groaning cry that ended on a gulping whimper she'd never heard from him but the audio made her want to climax herself. He came once hard, the moment lasting for longer than his normal orgasm and then almost on the heels of it she heard him cry out again. "Oh god!"

 

 And then the tension was gone and he was panting, gasping for air, shaking with the come down. She couldn't see the tears from her angle but she somehow knew they were there.

 

She took her hand out and Dean winced at the movement. Then she tossed the glove and snuggled up to hold him.

 

He was trembling. He was trembling quite hard and she knew he was fighting an emotional release that came with whatever suppressed trauma he'd been carrying in his body.

 

"Let it go." She told him. "Let it go."

 

He let out a sob. And then another. She held him, shushing gently. He rolled toward her and she could see the wet tears gleaming on his cheeks. He blinked and swallowed and turned back away quickly.

 

 Dean's face scrunched up and he started to cry again. "Fuck!"

 

"Shhh." It's all stress. "You've got so much stress in your body. Let it go." She rubbed his back. "Let it go, angel."

 

His tendency was to want to curl up away from her, but Carrie crawled over so she was facing him and took his wrists. "Hey." She said, pulling his hands from his face. "Don't hide from me. Come here." She tried to pull him in close but he resisted for a second, turned his head and swallowed hard.

 

Carrie pulled him to her anyway, putting her arms around him. Dean was stiff and unyielding under the touch, until he suddenly melted into her.

 

She held him silently. "I know this is hard for you but don't try to stop it. Let it out."

 

She could feel his tears wetting her neck. She could feel him instinctively manning up. "Let it out. I'm right here."

 

"I don't feel good."

 

"I know." She whispered.

 

"This is bullshit."

 

"No. Sweetheart. It's okay." She kissed the top of his head.

 

Dean finally wrapped his arms around her, his breath hitching. She held him patiently. Silently.

 

His shaking quieted and his breath evened out finally.

 

"Okay this is the last time were doing this," he mumbled. "I'm not gonna fucking cry through sex." He was regaining himself and with that Carrie could sense an embarrassment for his self perceived weakness.

 

He started to get up and she grabbed for him. He stopped once he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Dean, stay."

 

He shook her hand off his arm. "Carrie."

 

She rose to her knees behind him and put her arms around his broad shoulders. Kissed the side of his head.

 

He tried to shrug her off.

 

"Please." She said. "Please let me hold you. Please don't run away. "

 

"M not running away," he muttered. "Just let me have some space." He stood up and pulled away from her, bent down to grab his jeans and underwear and pulled then both on in one fluid movement. Carrie watched him round the corner to the bathroom and close himself inside.

 

He was in there for a while. She straightened the bed, changed the bottom sheets, although part of her wondered why because they would probably just make a mess of things again soon enough.

 

If he ever emerged from the bathroom.

 

"Dean." She knocked on the door.

 

"Carrie, leave me alone."

 

"Dean." She opened the door. He was sitting on the closed toilet lid, his head in his hands. He looked up and his brass pendant bounced against his chest with the movement.

 

"Jesus, Carrie." He seemed self conscious, he brushed his hair off his forehead.

 

"What's wrong?" She asked.

 

"Haven't you ever heard of privacy."

 

"How would you feel if I did this to you?"

 

"I'd feel you wanted your freaking privacy."

 

She hovered for a minute and then closed the door. "Fine."

* * *

 

 

Dean followed her out a few moments later and wandered off the kitchen. "You got something to drink?"

 

"Yeah." She gestured to the cupboard.

 

He surveyed her selection. "All you have is sweet girly shit."

 

"Probably because I'm a girl."

 

He blew a huff out of his nose and poured some wine for himself and one for her. He sat down at the table, legs spread, leaned forward over his drink.

 

She took at sip wanting to make him feel better. "Are you hungry? You're always hungry."

 

He shook his head. "Not right now."

 

She looked at him with concern but didn't pry. Dean kept drinking. It was a while before he said anything. He was drinking steadily. Not slamming it down like a frat boy, but one drink after another. She was still nursing her first.

 

"I think about you a lot." He said.

 

"I think about you too."

 

"I've been with a lot of women." He paused, studied his glass of wine. "Too many women." He snorted and looked up at her. "I dunno. Is there such a thing as too many?" He took a drink.

 

Carrie shrugged. "You're asking a woman that, Dean." She swallowed. "I'd say any besides me is too many."

 

He cocked an eyebrow and he let out a long exhale. "But of all the girls I've been with. I wouldn't... I dunno... trust...any of them to do to me what you just did."

 

Carrie sat with that for a minute. She studied his face.

 

"I can be... I'm different with you." He finished his glass and poured himself another.

 

"Different how?"

 

He gave her a long suffering look. "I let you put your fingers up my ass for one thing."

 

"I know that." She rolled her eyes. She reached across the table and grabbed his hand.

 

"You trust me." He said, studying her soberly, despite the fact that he was clearly feeling the wine by now.

 

"Yes."

 

"You shouldn't." He said, toying with the label on the bottle.

 

Her heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean. Dean, why are you telling me this?"

 

"Cause I care about you."

 

"This isn't the best thing to say to someone you care about."

 

"I'm bein honest. Cause I'm gonna hurt you. I don't wanna break your heart."

 

"Then don't."

 

He looked up at her. "It's who I am."

 

Carrie wanted to cry. She knew he was only being truthful but it hurt.

 

"You're hurting my feelings so maybe we should talk about something else."

 

"I'm not trying to hurt your feelings."

 

"Well you are."

 

He winced. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I just. I don't know what I'm sayin. This isn't what I'm even trying to say."

 

Carrie had her arms crossed defensively. "Well what are you trying to say?"

 

He looked up at her and her unforgiving stance and cocked his head. "You're so beautiful. Everything about you..."

 

Carrie warmed at the compliment but kept her face impassive.

 

"I'm...I'm out there all the time in the darkness. All the time. He swallowed. I got Sam with me. That's it. And I think of you. And I see some..." his lip trembled slightly. "Some fucked up thing and I wanna just bury myself in you. I just wanna stay with you until I can come up for air. I do shit on the road to help me forget but I... it follows me and I just want to be here."

 

That did it. She softened. "I know it's hard."

 

"I... sometimes we're doing something and I feel... I'm not used to being helpless."

 

"You're not. I've never seen you helpless."

 

He turned away, dropped his head a little. She could see tension in his shoulders. "You had your finger up there and I couldn't even think. I _couldn't..._ " he took a breath. "And then I'm crying and I don't know why."

 

"That's good."

 

"Doesn't feel good. I feel sick."

 

"Okay, Dean." She stood up and walked over to pull him into her chest. "It's too much for you. We don't have to do it again."

 

His arms went around her waist.

 

"I want to be in you," he whispered.

 

"No you don't." She said.

 

"Yes I do." He replied, feeling her ass.

 

"You don't feel well and you're channeling your pain into sex drive."

 

He lifted his head away from her. "What?"

 

" You heard me. I know it hurt but it's good to let those feelings out. They're so used to being restrained that it makes you feel awful to let them go."

 

"Maybe." He cleared his throat. "Okay. Yeah. I feel better now."

 

" You sure?" She asked.

 

"Yeah." He said. "But let's just stay vanilla for the rest of this trip okay? I'm all outta Kink."

 

"I'll be any flavor you want me to be..." she said as she bit her lip.

 He smiled at her. "God you're so hot."

She blushed. It never got old to have him look at her like she was something special.  
  



End file.
